


Things I Didn't Know

by Rakshi



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 02:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2565491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshi/pseuds/Rakshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah gets some news that shocks him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things I Didn't Know

Consulting his calendar was giving him a headache. The length of his 'must call today' list was getting depressing. "Jesus!" he moaned. "It looks like the damned LA phone book!"

He liked being busy. He liked being in demand. Whether the event was high priority such as shooting a movie or relatively low-priority like a DJ gig Elijah's performance was always high-octane. He prided himself on giving one hundred per-cent and he knew his reputation had proceeded him. Anyone he worked for expected and got everything he had to give.

But it got tiring. 

And occasionally in the midst of it all he stopped. Just - stopped. He'd stand and gaze into the distance, lost in memories of more peaceful times. This worked great when he was alone. It was like a mini vacation that only lasted a second or two and he'd snap back sharper than ever. 

On rare occasions though it happened when he was with others and that could be a problem. He'd fade out so completely that he'd miss snatches of conversation. He usually managed to cover it up, but now and then he'd find himself at a loss because he didn't know what this person had just said to him. Nothing to do then but just smile and nod and pretend to know what the fuck was going on. Fortunately that didn't happen often.

Today was one of those days when he yearned to fade out for a much, MUCH longer period of time. He wasn't happy with himself. Jason was getting on his nerves and that _never_ happened. He was tired of being a celebrity. He wanted to work at McDonald's flipping burgers. He wished that at least 25 people - and that list seemed to be growing too - weren't depending on him for their livelihood and sustenance. He felt, at times, as though he was supporting half of LA in one way or the other. Family, publishers, agents, stylists, lawyers, publicists, photographers, reporters, fellow cast members, musicians who were part of Simian, actors who were part of SpectreVision, recently hired crew for movies he was producing, production partners, DJ partners, and on and on and on. People whose names he didn't even know were looking to him to pay their rent and buy their groceries not to mention fill their kid's college fund.

And that got tiring too.

He found himself wondering if he were forgetting things. When he thought about the scope of his life and the number of people affected by what he did, the 'To Do" app on his iPhone seemed totally inadequate to the mission of keeping him on task. 

"Quit whining, Elwood," Dom told him. "You of all people in this fucked up world have absolutely nothing to complain about."

"I KNOW, Dom! And I'm not complaining! I'm worrying! I could let a lot of people down if I fuck up."

"Hey, man," Dom said in a lower voice. "You can only do what you can do. At least you care. That puts you head and shoulders above most of the jackasses who live in Hollyweird! You won't always make perfect choices but what the fuck, dude! No one does!"

Elijah grumbled something unintelligible and then agreed to meet up with Dom over the weekend for some much needed down time laced with copious amounts of beer. 

He was glad that he and Dom had remained close. This weekend would be good for him. They'd get semi-drunk and watch some old movie and Dom would regale him with stories of snakes and spiders and whatever other god-awful creatures he'd let crawl all over him in the past few weeks. 

"He's the new Crocodile-man!" Elijah mused, then frowned when he recalled what had happened to the _old_ Crocodile-man. "I hope he has enough sense to be careful," he mumbled, then shook his head. _Dom?_ he thought sourly. _Sense? CAREFUL? Fat chance._

He'd missed a recent outing with Dom and Billy. Hard as he'd tried he hadn't been able to re-shuffle the projects on his schedule and join them and this had made him terribly sad. He longed for the days when they were all together... getting stoned, getting silly, happiest when they were making no sense what-so-ever, and then finally _really_ catching up. Talking seriously about their lives and how they felt about them. That didn't happen often anymore, and Elijah missed it desperately, because in spite of the many people involved in his life, there were damned few of those people he considered close friends. Damned few who really knew him. Knew his heart. And Elijah was a man who thrived on that kind of intimacy. 

He tried not to think about the times when it was the three of them and he REALLY tried not to think about the rare times when it was the four Hobbits all together. It hurt badly enough when he felt lonely and thoughts of Dom and Billy entered his head. But when he felt lonely and thoughts of Sean entered... those were the worst. The most painful remembrance of all. 

He heard from Billy and Dom, of course. Saw them fairly often both together and separately. But Sean? Elijah hadn't heard anything from him in ages. Come to think of it... he hadn't heard anything _about_ him in ages. It was like Sean had just disappeared. He wasn't appearing at any cons that Elijah had heard about or running in any marathons. Nor was he doing any filming at the moment... at least none that he'd heard about, and someone ALWAYS made sure to tell him what Sean was doing.

Except for Dom and Billy of course. They knew better.

Elijah could have called Sean himself. He knew that. He still had Sean's number... or at least he _thought_ it was Sean's number. But he simply couldn't bring himself to call. It's not that Sean wouldn't be glad to hear from him. Truth to tell Sean would be overjoyed to hear from him and furthermore he'd make no effort to hide it. But he'd also be completely incapable of hiding the terrible sadness that would well up inside him upon hearing Elijah's voice. He wouldn't want to hang up. He'd want to talk for hours. It was joyous. It was agony. They would both cling to the phone while hearing each other's voice seared everything they wanted and everything they couldn't have into each of their minds and hearts until the pain was simply beyond endurance and they'd both weep and they'd both hang up.

No. Elijah wouldn't call. Better to leave things as they were.

 _But_ , Elijah thought suddenly. _I could call Mac!_ "He'd know what's going on."

He liked Sean's brother and Mac had always expressed a brotherly fondness for him. He knew about Elijah's relationship with his older brother. Knew how deep it ran. Knew how intimate it had become. And surprisingly, he seemed to approve. 

"He needs you, Elijah," Mac had told him once during an evening of protracted beer-drinking. "He's never really been in love with anyone else, and he needs to be in love. It pulls him out of himself."

Elijah had protested that Sean was in love with his wife, but Mac merely laughed softly and shook his head. "No, Lij. He loves her, of that I'm sure. Loves his kids as well. But IN love? No. That's you, Elijah. That's just... _you_."

"Why would he...," Elijah began.

"He was, and IS, desperate for approval, Elijah," Mac had told him. "He needed the perfect marriage, the perfect career, the perfect children, the perfect...," he glanced at Elijah and murmured: "You catch my drift."

"Approval from WHO?" Elijah asked.

Mac's response was to roll his eyes heavenward with as much "DUH!" in his expression as he could possibly convey.

"Oh," Elijah had said softly. "Her."

"Yeah," Mac had said, reaching for another beer. "Her." Mac shrugged. "Not that she cares. She hasn't cared for years. She loves him no matter what. But HE still cares."

Elijah sighed at the memory. Mac had been doing a lot of TV acting lately and Elijah wasn't sure he'd even be around, but he decided to take a chance and hit the speed dial for the last number he had for Mackenzie. Surprisingly, he answered on the first ring.

"Elijah! Hey man! Good to hear from you!"

"Hi, Mac! How's it going? Man, you're busy lately."

"Ahhh, you know, nothing major but enough to pay the fucking rent."

"Listen, Mac, I have a question."

"I don't know how he is, Elijah. He won't talk to me about it."

"About what?"

"You don't KNOW?"

"I haven't heard from him in months! Don't know WHAT? Mac, what the hell is going on? Is Sean OK?"

"Well," Mac said with a sigh. "Yes, and no."

"Mackenzie, god-damn it.... "

"He moved out, Elijah," Mac said slowly. "I honestly thought you knew. He's rented a little house in - of all fucking places - Pasadena."

"WHAT?" 

"He moved out... hell, it's been almost three months ago now."

"I'm going to fucking KILL him!" Elijah fumed. "I swear to god, Mac, I'm going to wring his fucking neck. How could he not..."

"Elijah, hold on," Mac begged. "Stop for a second."

"Well, that sure tells me a lot about what he feels about.... thinks of.... of... our relationsh - our friendship," Elijah stammered.

"You're wrong," Mac told him flatly. "You're dead, totally, fucking wrong."

"Mac..."

"No, Lij. No. You need to listen to me. Dammit, I've got a shoot today or I'd drive over and see you, but I can't so just listen to me. I helped him move but after than he refused to see me. He hasn't talked to ANYONE. Our mother doesn't even know. NO ONE knows. He's... oh hell, I don't know. He's sitting there! He's working through it. He's grieving. He's sulking. He's healing. He's... oh hell, what the fuck do I know? I check on him at least once a week or so but he absolutely refuses to let me come over and won't discuss any of it. And you know how stubborn he can get."

Elijah gave no response but Mackenzie could hear him breathing heavily... erratically. "Lij? You there?"

"Yeah, Mac. I'm here. He hasn't even seen his kids?"

"I don't know. Chris won't talk to me either. I think he's seen the girls now and then. Taken them out to dinner or whatnot, but that's it."

"I want the address, Mac."

"Elijah..."

"I want it right fucking now, Mac. And if you don't give it to me I'm going to drive to wherever you are and beat it the fuck out of you. Do you hear me!??"

"Elijah, for fuck's sake relax. I'll give you the damned address. But don't expect much. You might want to consider giving him..."

"Fuck that! He's going to see me and he's GOING to talk to me or I swear to God I'll.... I'll..."

"OK, OK, Lij. I get it," Mackenzie sighed. "Get something to write with."

Elijah wrote down the address with a shaking hand then hung up. He was not a person who got angry easily. In fact he rarely got angry at all. And he couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd felt _this_ angry or this hurt. That Sean could actually leave Chris and the girls without so much as a WORD to him! The very idea was beyond Elijah's comprehension. _How COULD he?!_ Elijah thought, fighting back tears. _How the fuck COULD he?!_

"All that talk!" Elijah fumed, grabbing his keys. "All that fucking fancy talk about how we'd be together when he was free. Now I see how much it really meant!"

He knew he was in no condition to be driving; he was shaking all over. But he forced himself into a sort-of surface calm and began the 30 mile trip to Pasadena. On the way he took deep breaths, tried to still his shaking hands, and wondered vaguely what he'd say to Sean when he got there. His mind was a jumble. The same thoughts kept repeating themselves over and over again.

His relationship with Sean had always been equal parts sadness and joy. He was in love with a married man, so how could it be otherwise? But even when they went long periods of time without seeing each other, the moments when they did meet were blissful beyond imagining. Elijah knew that Sean wanted desperately to be a good father. He knew that Sean wanted desperately to be a good person. He had come to expect no less. But he also believed that Sean's love for him transcended all other feelings. Now he wasn't so sure. 

_"How could I have been so **wrong**?_ " he thought. "I believed in him!" he whispered hoarsely. "I believed in US!"

The miles between his home and Pasadena passed in a blur and when he found himself parked in front of Sean's address he remained in his car staring at the house, unsure of his next move. It was neat and clean looking and the yard was decorated with attractive shrubs. The house had a red door and for some reason Elijah's mind immediately fixated on it.

"His fucking door is _RED_ ," he said numbly, staring at the house. "A red door! Why red? It's the color of blood!" He shook his head and moaned, clutching the steering wheel with both hands. "I have _got_ to get it together."

For a moment he considered leaving then instantaneously changed his mind. "No!" he blurted out. "I'm not going!" But the sense that he was starting to waver galvanized him and he bolted from his car and strode defiantly toward the red door. 

After only a moment's hesitation, he pounded on it, yelling: "Sean! Open this fucking door!" 

There was silence from within, and Elijah pounded again. "Sean! Open this door! I'm not leaving until I see you!"

After a moment he heard sounds of movement from inside the house and the red door slowly opened to reveal a tousled, sleepy-eyed Sean.

"Stop yelling," he said quietly. 

"Do NOT fucking tell me what to do, fucker!" Elijah spat. "I've got every fucking right to yell!"

"I know you do," Sean agreed mildly. "But please stop anyway. And do come in." He stepped aside and gestured toward the interior of the house. 

Elijah stalked past him without a word. He refused to be mollified by Sean's gentle demeanor and wheeled upon him the moment he heard Sean close the door. "How fucking DARE you do this to me!"

"Elijah..." Sean began, moving toward him, hand extended.

"No!" Elijah growled, backing quickly away. "Do not even think about touching me, Sean. I don't know if I'll ever want you to touch me again."

Sean came to a sudden stop and slowly lowered his hand. "You don't mean that," he whispered and Elijah saw his eyes slowly fill. "Tell me you don't mean that," Sean begged again in a voice stretched thin from the effort to hold back his tears.

Elijah pressed his back against a nearby archway and for the first time really looked at his friend. Sean was thin, thinner than Elijah had ever seen him. His eyes were red-rimmed and ringed with dark circles. His hands trembled at his sides and Elijah had never seen him look so exhausted, not even in the last frantic days filming 'Lord of the Rings'. 

"No," he relented slowly, unable to bear the pain in Sean's eyes and voice. "I probably don't. But I also don't have words to describe how _pissed_ I am right now. How could you _do_ this to me? How could you not come to me? How could you not tell me? How could you let me be blindsided by finding this out from someone else?"

Sean shook his head slowly. "I'm not sure I can explain and I'm not sure you'll believe me if I do."

"Well if you have _any_ desire within you to continue our relationship you had better try!"

They stood four feet apart, staring at each other. Elijah's hands were clenched into fists and he was breathing heavily. Sean had never seen him this angry. He bit his lip, trying to think of a way, any way, to defuse this situation. He gestured weakly toward the interior of the house. "Please," he asked gently. "Won't you come in and sit with me?"

Elijah glanced behind him and saw a sparsely decorated living room. For a moment he hesitated, then he turned and walked inside. He seated himself on the couch, the only piece of furniture he could see then turned to Sean. "OK. I'm in. I'm sitting. Get on with it, Sean."

Sean move toward the couch, then stopped. Sitting beside Elijah felt wrong somehow. Instead he stood before his friend and extended his hands pleadingly. "Elijah, I'm sorry. I know you're upset with me..."

"Upset?" Elijah broke in. "I'm a damned sight more than upset, Sean."

"OK. OK. I get it. Will you just please let me explain?"

Elijah rolled his eyes and looked everywhere around the room except at Sean. "Go on," he said shortly. He noticed as he looked around, however, that there wasn't much in this living room that could be seen as 'homey' or even remotely comfortable. The one couch. A simple desk with a computer sitting on it and a straight backed chair. One end table with a lamp. And that was it.

He frowned and stared at the floor, chewing his lower lip. This was totally unlike Sean, who was famous for his love of overstuffed 'this' and cushy, comfortable leather 'that'. This place was, Elijah thought, Spartan at best. He turned his attention back to Sean who still stood before him, not saying a word.

"Go on," Elijah said more gently.

Sean sighed. "I was afraid to contact you too soon. Afraid to talk to _anyone_ about what happened. I didn't want to - to - well, for lack of a better phrase 'come out' before I was sure that the separation was going to be... permanent."

Elijah looked up at him and for the first time felt himself relax a bit. 

"Elijah, I can't think of anything that would have been worse than to come to you spouting a bunch of promises that I ended up not keeping. I wasn't sure I wouldn't go back. I wasn't sure I could -" he bit his lip and Elijah saw his eyes fill with tears. "I - I wasn't sure I could live without my girls - my _daughters_ I mean!" he corrected quickly.

"Sean, what happened?" Elijah asked more gently, suddenly feeling guilty for his outburst. "This all seems pretty sudden." He indicated that Sean should sit on the couch next to him. 

Sean hesitated, then stumbled the few steps to the couch and sat next to Elijah. For a moment he said nothing then he shrugged. "Not much, really. If you mean was there a final big fight or a sudden big revelation, then no. There wasn't."

"There had to be some...," Elijah began.

"She caught me staring at a picture of you on my computer," Sean said quietly. "That's it. It's not like she didn't know. It's not like it hadn't been discussed. It had been. Many times starting as far back when we were filming. My god, Elijah, the woman isn't blind! And you'd have to be blind not to see I was attracted to you."

"I knew she suspected," Elijah said slowly.

"She didn't suspect," Sean replied bluntly. "She knew."

"Then why didn't she..."

"For the same reason that I didn't," Sean interrupted, turning to look at Elijah. "Because we have children."

There was a long moment of silence as they looked into each other's eyes.

"And now?" Elijah asked finally.

"I'm here aren't I?" 

"And just how long would it have taken you to call me?"

Sean leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "Elijah, I don't honestly know. It's not that I didn't want to call you. I did. But I'm also going through a huge transition right now and I wasn't sure you'd want to be part of all that. I'm not that much fun to be around at times."

"Your brother is worried to death about you."

"And so he sent you here?" 

"No. I called him to ask about you. He had no _idea_ that I didn't know. He assumed I DID know and he was rather shocked to discover that I hadn't heard a fucking word from you."

"Lij," Sean said in a wavering voice. "I don't know how many ways there are to say I'm sorry or explain all this to you. I'll keep trying, but eventually it'll all probably come out sounding exactly like what I've already said."

Elijah shook himself and drew in a deep breath. _What do you want from the guy?_ he asked himself irritably. _He's going through the worst period of his life. Maybe cutting him some slack isn't a half-bad idea._ He gnawed at his lower lip, regretting his angry, bitter words. Finally he turned back to his friend. "I'm sorry, Sean," he said apologetically, putting his hand on Sean's shoulder. "OK. Let's move past it." He gestured around the room. "Why so bare? No comfy chair? I didn't think you could live without one." 

"I - I didn't want to buy furniture in case I ended up..." he looked at Elijah somewhat sheepishly. "Well, you know..."

"How long have you been here?"

"Three months."

"Three fucking months?" Elijah repeated, in a horrified voice. "Are you fucking kidding me? And how long do you think you NEED to be here before you buy a comfortable chair? Never mind," he said quickly. "Don't answer that."

"I dunno, Lij. I guess I wasn't really thinking."

"No," Elijah replied thoughtfully. "You haven't been thinking. What you've been doing is punishing yourself. You barricaded yourself behind that red door in this bare, uncomfortable place, totally refusing to give yourself even the smallest bit of comfort... not even to the point of calling your best friend so he could support you through the worst period of your life. You absolutely _refused_ to demonstrate even the tiniest bit of love for yourself because you've been a very bad boy and deserve to suffer."

Sean glanced quickly at him.

"Yeah," Elijah said dryly. "And who does _that_ sound like!"

Sean shook his head. "Old habits die hard I guess."

"Well this one dies TODAY!" Elijah declared, standing up and drawing Sean with him. "C,mon."

"Where are we going?"

"First off, we're going to a furniture store to get you a decent, COMFORTABLE couch and a cushy, leather, recliner-rocker. And we will pay whatever it takes to get it delivered TODAY! THEN, we'll investigate the bedroom... which I'm sure needs some love too."

Sean's gave him a shy smile. "I have a few ideas in that regard."

Elijah laughed. "I bet you do. But we'll hear from your libido later. Right now we have bigger fish to fry. This place is a horror."

"Well, you'd know more about that than me."

Elijah smiled, still holding onto Sean's hand. "So you're gonna be a smart ass now?" 

Sean shook his head somewhat ruefully. "My only goal at the moment is to stay out of trouble if at all possible."

Elijah sighed and tugged him closer. "You're not in any trouble with me," he said softly. "I was more hurt than angry, Sean. I'm sorry I was mean."

"It was so unlike you," Sean said in a low voice. "Rather scared me to see you that way." 

Elijah couldn't help but smile. "I'll make it up to you. Now can we get you out of this house for an hour or two?"

"Furniture shopping!" Sean said with a grin, his fingers tightening on Elijah's. "Sounds like fun!"

Elijah returned his grin and took a step toward the door before stopping dead in his tracks. "Hey, are you going to get into trouble if she hears you were out and about with me?"

Sean surprised him by laughing out loud. "Are you kidding?" He made a comical face and pushed Elijah gently toward the door. "What's she gonna do? Throw me out?"

"Keep you from seeing your daughters?" Elijah suggested tentatively.

Sean lifted Elijah's hand to his lips and kissed it while staring into his eyes. "She can't do that, Elijah," he said softly and somewhat sadly. "It's not illegal for me to see a friend while the divorce details are being worked out. It's not even illegal for me to take a lover. She can't keep me from the girls."

"In that case," Elijah said, skating his knuckles along Sean's cheek, "C'mon. My car's out front."

The rest of the afternoon was spent shopping for furniture. They agreed in a whispered conversation punctuated by pokes and giggles that the furniture needed to be large enough to accommodate comfortable love-making and purchased accordingly, settling finally on the most overstuffed and extraordinarily comfortable items they could find. 

Before leaving the store Elijah stopped in the bedroom section and purchased a house-warming gift for Sean; a huge down feather-bed and comforter set. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at a grinning Sean as he paid for his purchase and hoisted the large bundle in his arms. 

"A little love for the bedroom," Elijah said with a wink. "Should be cozy."

"I suspect we're destined to find out," Sean chuckled, linking his arm through Elijah's and guiding them toward the store entrance. "And thank you, baby."

They made a brief stop to pick up pizza and beer then headed back. They ate sitting cross-legged on the living room floor talking quietly about unimportant matters but leapt up happily when the furniture truck arrived. 

The old couch was carted away by the delivery-men in response to Elijah's enormous tip which delighted Sean no end. "You bribed them!" he insisted, giggling.

"Not at all," Elijah protested, shoving his end of the new and much heavier couch into place. "They just didn't want that horrid thing in the same room with this nice, new stuff." He straightened up and surveyed the newly arranged living room with satisfaction. "There! That's better!" He scowled at the desk. "That thing has to go."

Sean merely shrugged.

Elijah moved to the desk and studied it curiously. "What's this?" he asked, pushing the computer monitor to one side. For a moment he simply stared in shock. "Sean! There's a fireplace behind this thing! What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?"

Sean laughed and settled comfortably on his cushy new couch. He watched with affection shining in his eyes as Elijah removed the computer components and grabbed the desk in both hands. "Get up here and help me move this thing!"

"You're doing great," Sean countered, smiling. "I'm enjoying the show from here, thank you." 

"Hiding a fireplace behind your desk," Elijah muttered darkly. "For fuck's sake, Sean."

"Yes, I know, I know. Just shocking!" Sean drawled. "Whatever shall we do about Seanie!"

"Now you're quoting "Lion in the Winter" at me? Get up here! Where can we put this thing? Do you have an office?"

"Would a second bedroom do?" Sean said, rising in amused resignation and moving toward the desk.

"Depends," Elijah replied. "What's in the damn thing? Your refrigerator?"

"Absolutely nothing," Sean told him, grinning. "Grab your end, Elwood."

"YOU grab my end," Elijah said, laughing.

"Later!" Sean promised. "For right now grab THIS thing's end!"

They maneuvered the desk upstairs to Sean's second bedroom and reconnected his computer equipment. "You know," Elijah said, looking around. "With a couple bookcases this wouldn't be a bad office."

"True," Sean agreed. "But I'm going to need a second bedroom for the girls."

Elijah nodded. "Of course. Sorry."

"We'll worry about an office tomorrow," Sean told him firmly, taking his elbow and guiding him out of the room. "For today, how about helping me make up my bed with feather bed you bought me."

"You're just trying to get me into the sack, Astin," Elijah observed with a wink. "Make your bed, my ass."

"If you insist," Sean replied, scooping Elijah into his arms and kissing him soundly.

Twenty minutes later they sat cross-legged facing each other on the cushy feather-bed, talking quietly. 

"Thanks, baby," Sean said, drawing his index finger down Elijah's cheek. "I really do apologize for not calling you. Clearly it was a stupid move on my part because you walking in the door was like a ray of sunshine for my soul."

"Such a sap you are, Astin," Elijah murmured affectionately then leaned in and kissed him. "And I'm sorry for being so mean earlier. I was feeling hurt and betrayed."

"I know. It was my fault. I shouldn't have been so reclusive. I KNOW that's the fast and easy path to depression." He shook his head in self-disgust.

"It's a completely new situation for you," Elijah countered. "There's no 'right' way to face it. You had to do what felt right to you. I shouldn't have taken it so personally."

Sean studied his face for a moment, then spoke: "So, what do you think now that it's actually possible for us to have a real relationship? Are you up for this?"

Elijah shrugged. "Well, far as I'm concerned we've always _had_ a 'real' relationship! What was it before? A fantasy?"

"You know what I mean."

Elijah stared past him for a long time, silently thinking. "I don't know," he said slowly. "I don't know how I feel yet. It's a totally new situation for me too, Sean, and frankly it's not a situation that I ever believed for one second I'd be actually facing."

"Well, you are."

Elijah made no reply and Sean added quickly: "Lij, you're not stuck with me or anything."

"Sean...," Elijah murmured, shaking his head. "For fuck's sake stop that."

"I'm just saying..."

"You're being silly."

"Lij...,"

"Silly and insecure."

"OK. I just...,"

"Look," Elijah interrupted quietly. "I've been in mourning for our relationship for years, Sean."

"Mourning?" Sean repeated in surprise. "Because you thought it was dead?" 

"I guess. But not just mourning for me. I mean, that was part of it. I've always loved you, Sean. If I were forced at gunpoint to be as big a romantic sap as you are...," he poked Sean in the ribs with a smile. "... I'd say you were the one great love of my life." He paused long enough to receive Sean's kiss. "So, yes, mourning because I'd lost the happiness I could have had with you, A happiness I know I'll never have with anyone else."

"And this next part may sound pretentious but..." He hesitated for a moment, then continued. "But I've been in mourning for you too, Seanie. Because I know... I mean I _know_... that you're losing too. You're losing the happiness you could have had with ME. And I know damn well it's a happiness that you'll never have with anyone else either. So inside me, that's been my 'default' position on - well on US I guess."

Sean stared at him in shock. "Elijah, I - I swear to god I never in a _million_ years dreamt that you grieved for us! Or in any WAY thought of me as the one great love of your life! I - I - god, I'm stunned!"

"You're always stunned when you realize how much people care about you. That's YOUR default position." He mussed Sean's hair with obvious affection.

"Wow," Sean breathed. "Just - just - _wow_."

"Looks like we both got to hear some things we didn't know today.

Sean made no response, but slowly moved forward, pushing Elijah to his back until he was sprawled on the bed with Sean's body covering his, their eyes mere inches apart. "And now?" Sean asked softly. "Do you want us to be together now, Elijah? I mean really together, publicly a couple."

"Like Brad and Angelina?" Elijah asked, grinning, his arms winding around Sean's neck.

Sean gave a short laugh. "Do I get to be Brad? Or Angelina."

Elijah giggled. "Angelina of course!"

"Figures," Sean said, grinning. "But yeah. Like them. But with more class and less press."

"You mean more like Sam and Frodo."

Sean kissed him again, his arms tightening around Elijah's body, pressing them together with all his strength. "No," he whispered finally, "I mean _exactly_ like Sam and Frodo."

Elijah sighed deeply before pushing Sean back to stare into his eyes. Their hazel depths spoke so clearly to Elijah of everything he loved about this man who held him close. About the strength and unflinching integrity. About the sweetness. About the love. "We _are_ Sam and Frodo," he said finally, his voice a choked whispered. "So how could it be any other way?"


End file.
